How She Came To Be
by LeRandomFangirl
Summary: "Behind the eyes of every killer is an untold story of how they came to be who they are." This story is about Clove. She wasn't alway the ruthless killer we know and love. She was once a loving, innocent girl. But what made her change? Why don't you read and find out!
1. The First and Final Reaping

**Please review and tell me your thoughts. I want positive feed back. Other wise I'll stop writing this story. next chapter should be up in a week or so. :) Enjoy and review ~LeRandomFangirl**

Today is the day of the reaping. It's my first. My step brother's last. Usually, being from District 2, children are trained to fight in the games. But my mother, being a victor herself, chose to keep me and my step brother, Mica, out of the academy. She does not want any of her children, even if Mica isn't her own, to face the horrors of the arena. And I don't blame her. After watching the games every year for twelve years, I cannot imagine fighting and killing and most likely dying. Neither can Mica. And luckily for us, we come from a District with overly eager volunteers, so if our names were called, despite our odds being highly in our favors, someone is always there to volunteer for us.

I feel a hand on my shoulder. It wakes me from my sleep. I open my eyes and see Mica's smiling face. His dad married my mom when I was two an he was eight. We have known each other for ten years. He loves and protects me like I am his sister by blood. And I love him the same way.

"Time to wake, cupcake," he says. I only laugh, ever since he gave me a cupcake when I was three and discovered I loved them, he has called me cupcake. "Today is reaping day."

I feel my smile fade. I can't pretend that I am not afraid. Of course I am. It's my first year. I am twelve. I'd be insane not to be afraid. But I know I am safe. As safe as I can be. My name is in once and even if my name is called, someone will surely volunteer. But that reassurance only goes so far.

"You nervous?" I ask as I climb out of bed.

"Naw," Mica says. "My name is only in seven times. And I think someone is already planning on volunteering. I should be safe." I mentally note how he says "should be". He should be safe. It doesn't guarantee that he will be. But he should be. Just like I "should be safe".

"Do you think I could be called?" I ask. There is a slight tremble in my voice.

Mica just laughs. "You? No. Your name is in once. You're twelve. The odds of that happening are over ten thousand to one. Your as safe as you can be."

I smile. He always knows the right thing to say. Always.

"Come on," he says. He bend down and lifts me over his shoulder. "Lets go get ready for the reaping."

Mica wears black pants, a blue collared shirt and a black tie. This is the kind of clothing boys wear to reapings in our district. In District 1, they are much fancier, being the luxury district. But as you go down the line of districts, clothing becomes less and less fashionable. In District 12, it is rumored that they wear rags to reapings.

As for me, my mom has put me in a creamy, white dress. It has a pretty collar and is covered in stitched flowers over the entire dress. I can't imagine how much it must have cost. My mom ties my hair back with a white ribbon to match.

"Beautiful," she says with a smile. "Your father would be proud."

My father, I think with a sigh. I don't know much about him. I know my parent were young when they met. And young when my mom became pregnant with me. And I also know that my father died in the Hunger Games, just months after I was born. I don't have any memories of him. I have only ever seen him in the pictures my mom has. I once saw him on TV, during a rerun of one of the games. But my mom turned it off right away. She sent me to my room. Even then, I could hear her crying. I know, that despite being married to Mica's father, she still loves mine.

She kisses me on my forehead. "It's almost ten," she says. Ten is when the reaping starts. It is mandatory that we be there. Everyone. Unless you are on your death bed. "Let's go."

It is a short walk from Victors Village to the town square. Just a quarter mile. When we get there, my mom signs Mica and me in. She kisses my step father and guys both Mica and me. She goes up onto the stage with the other victors from our district.

I go to where the other children between the ages over twelve and eighteen go. I take my place in the back of the group, while Mica must go to the front. I try not to be afraid. I lace my fingers together to keep my hands from shaking. I control my breaths by breathing slowly and steadily. Once breath every three seconds.

There is a light tap on my shoulder. I turn and see the familiar face of my friend, Sage. She smiles at me. But the smile is forced. Under her bravado, she is as scared as I am. I can tell she is shaking a bit because her blond curls keep bouncing up and down more so than usual.

"You ready?" She asks.

"Yeah," I lie. "You?"

She scoffs. "Of course I am."

I smile at her. She is brave. I have to give her that much.

Our conversations is cut short by the squeaky voice of our Capitol escort, Venus Brighton.

"Oh how great it is to see you all again," she says. As if she remembers all of us from the previous year. "Let's try to get this over with a soon as possible." There is thundering applause. Only in our district and 1 is there ever crowd response at the reaping. Everywhere else, it is silent as a funeral.

After a few words, Venus says, "Shall we start withy the girls?" More applause and cheers. Venus giggles. "Oh stop it!"

She walks up to one of the two glass bowls. She reaches in and pulls out a sheet of paper. She walks back to the microphone. There is a moment of silence.

"Bellona Crivith!" She calls out.

There is a shriek. Not of terror. But of joy. Bellona, a seventeen year old, runs up to the stage. I recognize her. I sometimes see her outside in the courtyard if the academy. She is highly skilled with blades. She can throw the slim, sharp disks two hundred yards and hit a target. Dead on. She is definitely a contender in these games.

"Very excited, I see," Venus says. Her overly pink lips are stretched into a humongous smile. "Do we have any volunteers?"

Silence. This is one of the rare cases where no one does volunteer. Either because, they know Bellona has a high chance of winning or they know the Bellona will rip their throats out if they try. Perhaps both.

"No? Okay then," Venus says. "Now, it's the boys' turn."

She reaches into the other bowl, draws a paper out and returns to the microphone.

"Mica Thacher!"

Mice. Oh no! Not Mica, I think. He can't have been chosen. She was supposed to be safe. The odds were in his favor. Completely. His name was only in seven times. Yet he was chosen.

He walks slowly up the stage. His brown eyes are clouded with confusion. He cannot believe he was chosen. There is only one thing that can save him now. A volunteer. He did say something about someone wanting to volunteer.

"Now, do we have any volunteers?" Venus asks.

No one speaks up. The only sounds is a few whispers and the scuffling of feet.

"Someone please volunteer," I whisper, low enough so only I can hear. "Please."

But no one does. No one speaks. No one moves. Mica stays onstage completely shocked. Terror fills his eyes. I have never seen him this scared before.

I find my mom on the stage behind him. She jaw is clenched tight. A fire burns in her eyes. She loves Mica like her own. I know for sure that she will be one of the mentors this year. She will help Mica as best as she can. I cannot help but think that it might not be enough. Mica might not win. He has no training. He never intended to compete.

"Well," Venus says. "Here are your tribute for the 71st annual Hunger Games! Bellona Crivith and Mica Thacher!"

The crowd cheers. Bellona gives a bow. Mica stands like a statue. Venus walks off stage and Bellone and Mica follow her into the Justice building. That is where they will say goodbye to their families. That is where I will say goodbye to Mica.


	2. Be Strong

**Here is chapter 2! I know Clove seems OOC. But just wait. As the story progresses she will turn into the Clove we know! Please review. Tell me your thoughts. ~LeRandomFangirl**

I shove my way through the crowd. I keep my eyes locked on the door where Venus took Mica and Bellona. After what seems like an eternity, I make it there. Peacekeepers guard the door. They stop me when I go to open it.

"Are you family of one of the tributes?" One asks me.

I nod. "Mica is my step brother," I say. "You have to let me in." I am fighting back tears now.

The peacekeeper moves aside and opens the door.

"Up the stairs, turn down the hallway to your left. He will be in one of the rooms on the right," he says.

"Thank you," I say with a sigh.

I race up the stairs and turn left. There are two doors. I hear cheers in the first one. A happy squeal or two. Definitely not Mica. I open the second door.

Mica is sitting on the couch in there. He is tapping his thumbs against the seat like he does when he is stressing. He stares at the wall. His expression is blank.

"Mica?" I say.

He turns to me. "Clove," he says. "Why didn't you just go home?"

"I wanted to say good bye."

He scoffs. "What's good about it?"

I walk over and sit next to him. "You said you wouldn't get picked."

"I said I 'shouldn't' get pick. Not that I wouldn't," he says. "There was always a small chance that I would get picked. And I guess the odds weren't in my favor."

"But you said someone would volunteer."

"But obviously no one did," he says. There is a bit of anger in his voice.

I feel a tear fall onto my cheek. I sniffle a bit. Mica looks at me. His dark green eyes are tinged red with tears. Or lack thereof. He puts his arm around me.

"Don't cry," he says. "If anyone needs to be strong, it's you." He wipes the tear. "Be strong, Clove. For me."

I nod. "I will," I say. "But promise me you will try to win. Try to come home. For me." I just cannot imagine him not coming home. The thought makes me hurt.

"I'll do the best I can," he say. But we both know that the odds aren't exactly in his favor. District 1 requires that every one be trained. So they are most certainly a threat. I wouldn't put it past Bellona to kill her district mate. And I have no idea what the other districts' tributes look like. District 4 is always a challenge, because they sometimes train tributes and when they have a well trained one, they tend to win.

"Here," I say. I reach around my neck and undo my necklace. Attached is a heart shaped locket. Inside are two pictures. One is of me as a baby, my mom and my dad. And the other is of Mica, his dad, my mom and myself. I put it into his hand. "As your token. You will keep it. Won't you?"

He smiles. A forced smile, but still, a smile. "Of course I will." He looks at the clock. Usually family member only have two minutes to say goodbye. It's been seven. "You will have to go soon."

I nod. The door opens. I expect a peacekeeper to walk in and force me out. But instead I see Mica's father.

"Dad," Mica says.

"Clove," his father says to me. "Would you excuse us? I would like to speak to my son alone."

I nod. I give Mica one final hug. "Try to win," I say. The tears are fighting their way back again. "Just try."

As I close the door behind me, I hear say Mica say, "I will. I swear I will try. And you be strong. For me."

The tears come before I am even out of the building. By the time I am in the square, my eyes are so clouded with salt water that I can't see anything. I stumble all over the place. Luckily for me, no is there to see. Everyone is gathered at the train to watch the tributes leave. My mom is probably already on the train. Preparing herself for her mentor duties. It's been a long time since she has mentored. I only have two memories of her leaving for the games. One when I was very young. And another from three years ago. Both of those years our district had winners. I hope this is another one of those years.

Somehow, I manage to find my way home. I now better than to head to the tracks like everyone else. If I could barely hold myself together while walking home. I cannot imagine how I would be seeing Mica getting on a train and leaving. Possibly forever. I know these games will be tough. Not just because Mica will be in them, but also because he and my mom won't be here. They would both comfort me during the weeks. The games have always scared me. Maybe it's because my dad died in them. Maybe because I, unlike almost every other child in District 2, have not been trained to laugh at the face of danger. I am not brave. I could never kill anyone. Just cutting my meat at dinner with a knife makes me afraid I'll hurt myself or someone else. I, unlike the others, am not a killer. And I hope, I will never have to become one.

In the distance, I hear a train's whistle. It is the signal of the train leaving. Mica leaving. My mom leaving. Part of me leaving. All I can do is wish that all that leaves, returns.


End file.
